


Is It Ever Really Worth It?

by drewandian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9432899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drewandian/pseuds/drewandian
Summary: Episode tag for "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid" (season 5)





	

Sam’s breathing hard, growls out “are you OK?” his eyes fixed on Dean’s. They’re both all too aware of how close they’d come to losing Dean and Bobby. A clattering to his right, Jody’s rifle hitting the floor, startles him. He turns to see her all but running out of the cabin. Sam lets his own rifle hit the floor and follows her.

Sam finds Jody at the side of the porch, bent over, throwing up. He lifts his hand, lets it hover for a moment before it drops back by his side.

“Sheriff? Are – are you ok?”

Jody turns to face Sam, wiping her mouth with the back of her trembling hand. Her eyes are wide and glistening with unshed tears.

Sam watches as Jody struggles for a moment; can see exactly when she pushes her feelings down, just like she had on her front lawn earlier. She runs a shaky hand through her hair and gives him a little nod.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m – “she sighs heavily, her voice shakes – “ok.”

She turns to walk back into Bobby’s cabin and her knees give out on her. Sam lunges forward, catching her just before she hits the ground.

“Whoa, easy!” 

His left arm holds hers as his right arm goes around her waist, holding her up. He walks her to the porch steps and helps her to sit before settling in next to her.

Jody leans forward, rests her arms on her thighs and takes a deep breath. “So maybe I’m not ok.”

“Sheriff – “Sam stops, no idea what to say that could possibly begin to make things OK for Jody again. She’s just lost everything – her husband, her son (not once but twice), her blissful ignorance, her belief that monsters don’t exist.

And it’s all Sam’s fault.

“I – I so wanted to believe that Owen coming back was a good thing. Like Sean – “her voice falters “– Sean and I had done something so right that we’d been given a second chance.” She takes a shuddering breath, exhales with a huff. “It was so easy to ignore the – the *absurdity* of it all. To – to look past the fact that he was a – a *zombie*, for fucks’ sake, and believe that I’d somehow gotten my baby back.” She shakes her head. “And now – now I’ve got nothing but a house I can’t ever set foot in again – not without seeing my sweet, sweet Owen kneeling over Sean, tearing him apart.”

Jody’s voice breaks, the tears she’s been holding back finally spilling over. She buries her face in her hands, cries quietly.

Sam is struck by the fact that she’s willing and able to sit there and share this with him, the stranger who rolled into her town and put a bullet in her child’s head. That she doesn’t blame him, or Dean or Bobby for that matter, for any of what’s happened here over the past week. For now, at least, she seems content to believe it’s her fault; that if she hadn’t wanted so badly to believe Owen being back was a good thing that this horrible, terrible thing wouldn’t have happened. That wanting her family together, and whole, even for just a little while, was wrong.

He puts a hand on her back, rubs small circles in what he thinks is a pathetic attempt to comfort her. He feels like he should say something, anything, but nothing comes to mind.  
He’s still overwhelmed by the fact that this is all his – their – fault. Death had sent those zombies as a warning, he was sure of it, and the sheriff, all those other families, had been caught in the cross fire.

Just as quickly and quietly as she’d started, Jody stops crying. She takes a few shaky breaths and wipes her cheeks dry with her sleeves. Again, just like when he’d found her with  
Owen, Sam watches her clamp down on her emotions.

When she turns to face Sam, her eyes are clear, her mouth set in a firm line. She’s all business, just like she was when she stood next to him and hit zombie after zombie with clear head shots.

“Sam, how about you explain to me what the hell happened to my town this week?”

Sam lets his hand drop, leans forward to rest his arms on his knees. He sits in silence for what feels like eternity, tries to figure out where to start. There’s no easy way to explain it, and he doesn’t want to give her some bullshit half-truth. She’d see right through it; and she deserves better than that.

“Sheriff, uh – “he sighs, struggles to find words. “Me, Dean, Bobby – we hunt – things – “

“Things? Plural? Like, not-just-zombies-things?” Jody sighs. “Of course.”

“Uh – yeah. Anyway, we – me and Dean – we’ve managed to piss off the wrong…things. These zombies – your son, Bobby’s wife – were sent by Death as a warning to Bobby.”

“Death!? As in Grim Reaper, scary guy in a black robe, Death!?”

Sam nods. “He wants Bobby to back off, to stop interfering, and stop helping us.” Sam sighs. He meets Jody’s eyes, his brow furrowed. “I’m so sorry, Sheriff. So, so sorry about your family; for what I had to do. And for what you had to do.”

Jody just nods. She doesn’t trust her voice, doesn’t even know what she’d say, anyway. She moves to stand, to go back inside and gather her gun.

Sam puts a hand on her arm and she stills.

“Sheriff – I – thank you. Thank you helping me save the town; saving Bobby and Dean. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I had to, Sam. I couldn’t let anyone else lose their family. I really had no choice.” Her voice is flat. He’d understand anger or bitterness; this lack of emotion worries him.  
When she moves again to stand, he lets her go. He understands her loss but hasn’t the slightest clue how to help her, what to say.

He waits outside while she gathers her rifles, takes them from her and loads them into her car.

“Dean and I will help you clean up the – bodies.” She nods. She turns, opens the car door. He can see the walls she’s already put into place; he’s struck by how much she reminds him of how he and Dean handle the trauma.

He takes a step toward her and awkwardly takes her into his arms. She tenses for a split second before relaxing and wrapping her arms around him. She takes a shuddering breath and squeezes him tight before she pulls back.

“Sam, it’s ok. Or it will be, eventually. I’ll be ok.” Her voice is rough with emotion. “You did what needed to be done. I couldn’t have done it and I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you.” She gives him a half smile. “So as strange as it sounds, thank you.”

Sam shrugs, stuffs his hands into his pockets and hunches his shoulders up.

“Well, I should head into the station. Figure out how the hell to file the report on this.” She sighs, shakes her head. “Make sure you boys stop and say goodbye before you go.”

Sam nods. He considers asking her to check in on Bobby and decides against it. He has a feeling she will, whether or not he asks. And he knows Bobby’d be pissed if he knew Sam had asked her to.

He pushes the car door shut and taps on the roof of the car as she pulls off. He heads back into the cabin and can’t help but wonder, again, if it’s all really worth it.


End file.
